Autumn Rising
by coteriedufromage
Summary: Harry's not sure anymore what exactly he owes Draco.
1. Eyes in the Mist

**Note:** First chapter!  
**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

"_Draco…" _

Harry woke, his breath coming out in shuddering gasps. He looked around frantically as he suddenly become conscious of his surroundings. It was 6:00 am, and a typical Hogwarts morning. Harry wiped away the sweat from his forehead as he got out of bed.

"It has been the third restless night this week," Harry thought. "When is this ever gonna end?"

Harry made his way to the common room, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas. It was Saturday morning and almost everyone was still in bed. He took a seat on his favorite chair by the fireplace and let out a deep sigh.

It had been the same dream for three consecutive days, regardless, the memory of his dream was still vague. Yet, he was haunted by a vision of cloudy gray eyes.

"To whom do these eyes belong?" Harry asked on numerous occasions. It was a mystery Harry kept to himself. He wasn't comfortable confessing his thoughts to anyone, especially Ron. Ron is and always had been Harry's best friend, but he had never been the best person to speak with about feelings. He doubted that Hermione would be very helpful either; she would probably write it off as just the result of too many hours spent working.

He laid back and groaned. He knew he shouldn't feel bothered; he had plenty of strange dreams before, but he couldn't help but wonder what it meant. What if Voldemort hadn't really died? Was this some new threat, a hold-over from the ordeal he thought was finally over?

"No" he said aloud.

Harry pushed himself off the chair and brought his backpack down from the dormitory. As long as he was up, he might as well catch up on his potions homework. A pang tore through his heart every time he thought of the old potions master. Though Snape _had _truly hated Harry, he had still been loyal till the very end. Somehow, Harry couldn't get angry recollecting all the times Snape had tortured him or how he had hurt his mother, knowing what he went through every day. How could he blame Snape, when he had to look at his only love's eyes every day?

What would have been a disconcerting idea was somehow, almost, comforting, as if it were an idea rather than an actual occurrence. After all, what teenager wouldn't feel strange finding out one of his worst enemies had loved his mother? But when he thought of Snape now, he only thought in terms of his sacrifice, as he did of many of the people that had passed through his short but turbulent life. Tears filled his eyes as he remembered every parental figure he had that had given up their life for his sake, for the world's sake.

He shook his head to clear his vision, and stared at his blank parchment. In this mood, he wasn't sure he can concentrate on his homework. Maybe he should try, Hermione would be on him soon enough….the flames were dancing their light across the room coaxing him to sleep…

* * *

Draco Malfoy looked around the Slytherine table, his eyes finally resting on Pansy Parkinson. How he detested her. He turned away quickly so she wouldn't notice him staring, but unfortunately the smile on her face said she did. She got up from where she was sitting and made her way towards him.

"Crap," Draco muttered.

"Hey babe," Pansy greeted. She stood in front of Draco with her hands on her hips. She was never modest when it came to make-up, but green eye shadow on a school day was a bit ridiculous. She had the first few buttons of her blouse unbuttoned and her skirt rolled about four times. And it was like this she stood in front of Draco with a smirk upon her lips.

"Babe?" Draco asked as he looked up at her from his cereal bowl. He put down his spoon in order to give his attention to the girl before him. "You do realize we broke up last summer?"

Pansy, a bit taken aback, retorted, "Obviously I remember!" She took a seat beside Draco. "You never told me why you broke up with me."

She looked at Draco with a serious expression on her face. He sighed and said, "We're just not good together, okay? What do you want me to tell you?"

Pansy jumped out of her chair in a fit of rage. Her lip trembled in fury her brow furrowing simultaneously. "You'll regret this Draco!" she screamed, making a scene.

This outburst reminded Draco of exactly why he broke up with Pansy in the first place. Her ability to make a big deal out of anything astounded him, and along with that, she always seemed to be a little too close to his male friends.

Draco let out an exasperated sigh "Will I really, Pansy? Because unless my memory is getting fuzzy, I thought I was the one that left_ you_."

He watched in amusement as her face gradually reddened. Unable to find a suitably scathing response, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the Great Hall. He returned to his breakfast with a little smile, but his satisfaction quickly evaporated when he spotted Goyle skulking towards the table. Draco quickly slipped out from the table and took a roundabout route toward the exit. On the way, he passed Potter, who gave him a strange stare as he walked. Draco responded with a slight sneer, an automatic reaction before remembering that it wasn't quite the sort of thing he could, or at least should, do anymore.

Potter continued to look dazed and did nothing. Vaguely confused by this, Draco walked out into the cooler entrance hall. More students were milling in, making him feel claustrophobic. He escaped to the thankfully deserted bathroom. He splashed some water on his face and sat on the cold stone floor.

Was it right to avoid Goyle like this? Draco didn't know how close he and Crabbe had been, but to lose a friend and a parent on the same day had to be tough for him. And now he had no one…

His guilt still squirmed through his intestines even after months had passed. If he hadn't been so focused on catching Potter; if he hadn't left those two, especially those two, to their own devices... He got up and started pacing past the dripping sinks. The air in the bathroom was stale and thick, and seemed to wrap around and cloud his thoughts. Only one strip of light made its way through the cracked and dusty window in the corner, illuminating the sea green tile that made him nauseous.

"He knew it was dangerous when he went," whispered a voice in his head. This was true. Many things could have happened. Potter could have killed them all on the spot. The hallway could have caved in on them, as it had in other spots during that epic battle. Hell, Crabbe could have even just fallen off a tower, the way that he acted sometimes. Any number of things could have happened, right?

"Yes, but I knew he didn't really understand," the better part of himself said back. Crabbe had just been out for glory, not thinking straight. Did he ever? Either way, both of them would have followed Draco where ever he went, no matter how dangerous or absurd. It was why they were his friends in the first place.

"Exactly. The brute got what he had coming to him." Did he deserve it? He heard the unearthly scream in his head, screaming at Draco not to believe it, saying that if he did, maybe he wasn't the person he thought he was.

"No he didn't! He didn't." He felt the tears stream down his cheeks and realized he has shouted out loud. The tears splashed onto his open palm, revealing the paleness of his skin under the darkening red of the blood drying there. Shards of glass littered the floor under where he had unconsciously struck the mirror in rage. Backing up toward the wall, he sunk to the floor again.

Draco looked around the bathroom to see if anyone had heard his outburst. Human or ghost, he knew if anyone had heard him, they would have thought that he was beside himself. Appearances were all he had now, and that wasn't going to be taken away from him too. Realizing just how cold the bathroom floor was, he got up to wash his hands and face, then made his way to the grounds. He didn't know why he suddenly felt like going there, of all places, his legs felt like they were just guiding him there.

Draco stopped abruptly and just then he knew exactly why his legs led him here. This place on the grounds, this very spot was the place where he had failed. He had failed to kill someone who the Dark Lord wanted him to kill. The guilt he was feeling in the bathroom must have seeped into his legs; suddenly his legs gave away and he fell to the ground, to his knees. Silently tears began to fall from his cheeks onto the grassy ground, as he remembered what had happened here just one year ago.

* * *

Draco leaned back against the rough bark on the sunny side of the tree, letting the sunlight spread warmth over his skin. His fingers locked around thin blades of grass, to keep his hands from finding their way to his pocket. With his eyes closed, he could hear more clearly than usual the voices of all the other students on the lawn, mingling with the general sounds of springtime: the soft chirps of returned birds, the pad of running feet, the whirr of flying objects cutting through the light air. His still figure added nothing to these sounds, but merely observed them. This was the best time of day, when he didn't have to think; of things to say, or what emotions might be showing, or even how to perform a spell. But even though he longed to just exist, the shards of glass in his pocket reminded him that he would be forced into consciousness if he tried to forget. For now, though, he could lay and listen.

All of a sudden, a shadow interrupted his calm. He flipped open his eyes to glare at the person in front of him. "What do you want?" he growled, so quietly that he doubted if it was audible.

In front of him stood Potter, swaying awkwardly on his feet. "I, er…" He was looking down at his feet. To Draco's confusion, a blush crept up the boy's cheeks. Draco felt a vague sense of appreciation for the color as it contrasted with his skin, but the feeling disappeared so quickly that he couldn't analyze it. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

A million different biting responses threatened to choke him, but all that escaped Draco's throat was, "What?" He rearranged his face into what he hoped was a neutral expression, but he didn't think he succeeded, as was the case whenever he was angry at this particular person. But it wasn't like it mattered anyway.

Potter's courage finally seemed to desert him. "Yeah, I can do this later, or some other… time…." his voice trailing off at the end. His eyes (since when were they so green?) flicked away from the ground to a cloud floating along the horizon. Draco had never seen his enemy so emasculated in front of him, and he found it made him angry for no apparent reason.

"You know, just because you saved my life that one time doesn't mean you can just come up and annoy me any time you want." Ridiculous. He sounded so ridiculous. "It doesn't mean anything. I'm not your damsel in distress, so you don't have to keep checking up on me to see if I'm okay. So you can quit acting like the lion protecting the lamb."

In a flash, Potter's eyes narrowed. Draco could track the growing anger in his expression, stretching across his features and changing them into something completely different than what they had been before. "You'd think that you'd have learned your lesson. With your parents in jail and you practically having nothing left, that you'd have a little more humility."

"Don't you dare talk about my parents," Draco retorted, his voice rising fast. Without realizing it, he was standing a foot away from his nemesis.

"And why not? You've had enough goes on my parents. At least _I'm_ telling the truth when I say your parents are scum."

Heat flushed Draco's face and next thing, he felt a sharp sting where his fist had connected with the other wizard's jaw. Their eyes held for a moment before they both hit the soft ground. Potter's hands were wrapped around his throat and his mouth was ejecting strange, almost bestial sounds. Draco had trouble breathing, but he was able to bring his knee up hard into Potter's middle, loosening his grip. The blond attempted to swing his body over to crush the other boy's side, but it didn't work well. Potter retaliated by punching him in the eye. Draco was only distantly aware of the crowd of spectators that was forming around them, cheering on both sides but not trying to stop them.

Draco found that the longer they fought, the less he seemed to feel. The only sensations that broke through the bubble around them were of the frantic beating of his heart and the screaming that seemed to move through him like bad music. Really, the excess noise only seemed to embolden, rather than embarrass, him as his fingers sought out a place to scratch out sensitive skin.

And then, when Harry's blows had subsided, he thought he had won. But there were arms around his chest and the crowd parted to give him and his captor pass as he was dragged away. When there was enough distance to prevent him from recommencing his attack, the arms let him drop. He turned around, centimeter by centimeter, to look up into the face of Aurora Sinistra; the Astronomy Professor. She was surprisingly strong for someone to drag a student of Draco's size through a crowd, but she did. She then pulled the young boy in front a hallow tree.

Students dispersed from the area when the teacher arrived leaving a stunned Harry alone in the field, only to stare at Draco being pulled by Sinistra. His green eyes clouding over; with a turn on his heels as he walked away from the scene like he was trying to forget it ever happened. Sadly Draco could not, as he was being bombarded with the do's and don'ts of Hogwarts, by another teacher. He zoned out after another 'you shouldn't do' and gazed pass the professor.

Draco couldn't understand why he was getting hassled while the 'great' Harry Potter was left unscathed. He already had detention later today, another day wouldn't hurt. The student then began to wonder how he got into this mess to begin with. Potter was acting a little strange when he came over interrupting Draco's silence. He also was babbling like a fool, like he couldn't find his voice or something. Whatever it didn't matter anyways...


	2. Detention with a Ferret

** Note: **second chapter! omg!

**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K Rowling...woot!

When Harry returned to the Gryffindor tower he noticed that almost everyone was awake and in the common room. Harry looked around the common room and caught Ron's younger sister, Ginny's, eye. She smiled shyly at him and looked away. Harry cursed at himself because all he managed to do was stare dumbly back at her.

"Lazy Saturdays are the best," Ron said as he flopped onto the chair next to Harry's. Ron let out a large yawn, his arms flying into the air as he stretched."Why were you up so early, Harry?"

Harry, finally realizing his friend's presence, answered, "Huh? Oh...I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep."

"Well, that might explain the sleep talking."

"The what?" Harry asked. He had never thought he was a sleep-talker and the thought of being one was quite embarrassing.

"You talk in your sleep, mate." Ron stated plainly. "It is a little weird, but I got used to it."

"So... what exactly do I say in my sleep?" Harry asked nonchalantly. In actuality, he was very curious. Ron, seeing right through his act laughed at him shamelessly.

"What? Have you been having naughty dreams you don't want me to know about?" Ron enquired childishly. Harry didn't find his joke amusing and as if in perfect timing, a bushy brunette took a seat beside Harry.

"What's going on guys?" She asked, looking from Ron to Harry. Ron's expression changed dramatically, from a goofy smile to one of handsome maturity, instantly. He sat up and greeted his girlfriend with enthusiasm. Sometimes, Harry got the feeling that Ron still couldn't get used to fact that he and Hermione were dating.

"It's nothing, Hermione. Ron's just acting like an arse," Harry laughed. Hermione couldn't keep from laughing herself; she played it off as a cough as if not to upset Ron. Fortunately Ron didn't notice. Instead, he was distracted with a question about Quidditch.

"We do have practice today, right Harry?" Ron asked. Harry's mood changed instantaneously, as he remembered his detention.

"Actually, I rescheduled," Harry mumbled. He busied himself by pretending to read his Potions book. He knew Ron was disappointed and because of this he couldn't possibly look him in the eye. Ron was burning holes into the side of Harry's head, as he stared incredulously.

"You're joking. We only had one practice."

"I know, but Aurora Sinistra really isn't willing to compromise," Harry complained, "I've got detention at 6 pm and don't act like I wanted this."

"Of course you wanted this. Why else would you have gotten yourself into trouble?"

"Trust me Ron; I'm really starting to regret it. Not only do I have to stay in detention, but I have to stay in Detention with Malfoy." Ron groaned at the mention of Malfoy's name. Hermione, on the other hand, remained silent on the subject of Harry's detention.

Ron asked Harry angrily, "How exactly did you get detention in the first place?"

"You don't want to know," Harry sighed, "I got into a fight with Malfoy. I guess my temper just got the best of me."

"You're kidding, right," Hermione asked, refusing to stay silent any longer.

"You'd think the whole 'saving his life thing' would knock some sense into him," Ron stated.

"Apparently not," said Harry.

"Honestly," Hermione huffed, "exercise some restraint, Harry. Just because a person provokes you doesn't mean you should automatically jinx them."

"It wasn't like that -"

"Than what was it like?"

"I-I don't know," Harry stammered. This fight was unlike any other fight he has had with Malfoy. This fight was completely different; it was as if he wasn't even fighting Malfoy, he was just frustrated and angry and he didn't know why. Every blow, every punch and every scratch was just a medium for releasing the frustration that Harry didn't even know he had. But what was he so frustrated, so angry about? Harry felt mentally exhausted just thinking about it.

"I'm going to breakfast," Ron announced, tapping his stomach. Harry didn't realize he had stopped paying attention. "You coming Hermione? Harry?" Hermione nodded and got up from the couch. Harry followed suit, and mechanically made his way down to the Grand Hall.

After the trio found their seats at the Gryffindor table, they looked up at the main table to find Hagrid. He was very easy to spot among the professors. The large bearded man beamed at the sight of Harry, Ron and Hermione, his favorite students. "That's old Hagrid for ya'." Ron began, but Harry didn't hear the rest.

Instead, his eyes were on the main table. He did not understand why, but his eyes scanned the table as if he were looking for someone. And then a pain so severe pierced through his heart, when he realized who that person was. It was already a week into the school year, and ever since school started Harry had tried not to think about Dumbledore. Whenever a thought came to mind, he stopped himself from dwelling on it. He thought he moved past the pain, but having it all come back like this…it was scary.

Hogwarts has never been the same since the war and, of course, the death of Dumbledore. Every stone in the castle was a constant reminder of the pain and despair of the battle that took place there. A somber atmosphere lingered within the castle, one that wasn't going to lift anytime soon. It was thick, almost suffocating, yet, many students continued to pull through the sorrow.

The sound of Harry's shoes echoed throughout the empty hall. Everyone in the castle seemed to be either in their common rooms or in the library. Unfortunately, Harry was on his way to the detention room. He had an innate feeling it was not going to go well. He and Draco could barely get along for five minutes; three hours would certainly feel like an eternity.

When Harry entered the dingy classroom he was greeted with what seemed like hundreds of slimy cauldrons. Professor Aurora Sinistra sat at her desk and, not even bothering to look up from her paper work, waved her hand toward the seat reserved for Harry. Draco was in the far corner of the classroom, a pained expression on his face. Harry smiled at the thought of Draco being miserable; he just didn't like the thought of him sharing that misery. He took his seat and looked straight ahead of him, towards the professor, avoiding eye contact with the blond across from him.

"Alright," said Sinistra, finally looking up from her work, "now that you're both here, I want you to scrub every single one of these cauldrons. I don't want to see a speck of slime anywhere, understand?" The boys answered her with a chorused "Yes, Professor."

The boys got up from their seats and grabbed a bucket of water and a sponge, apparently no magic was allowed. Harry scrubbed furiously at a stubborn piece of slime. This was not going to be an easy task. To Harry's irritation, Draco mumbled swears under his breath with every scrub.

"I'm going to step out for a little while, boys," Sinistra grabbed a few things off her desk. "If you try anything, I will find out and you will instantly regret it." With that said, she hastily exited the classroom closing the door behind her. The silence that followed lingered in the air. In a fit of sudden irritation, Draco groaned loudly. Harry, surprised by the outburst, whipped his head around to see the cause of the commotion. Draco had dropped his sponge and was now fishing in his robe for his wand.

"W-what are you doing?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"What does it look like, genius?" Draco replied maliciously. With that said, he pointed his wand at the cauldron held in his hand and muttered an incantation. Harry waited for something to happen, but the magic was without result.

"Maybe you're not as good with your wand as you think you are," Harry laughed. Draco was not amused, instead he shoved his cauldron into Harry's hand and said, "Why don't you try for yourself?"

Harry, responding to the challenge, took out his wand and pointed it down toward the cauldron. Harry was extremely confident; he defeated the Dark Lord, who was to say he can't do a little cleaning magic? Regardless of Harry's confidence, his efforts with magic were fruitless. Draco laughed out loud at Harry's surprised expression. "No way," was all Harry could say. When Draco's laughs subsided he managed to articulate, "I think Sinistra was smart enough to put a block against magic, 'else we would have already finished."

Harry, still cringing from embarrassment, nodded in agreement. He tucked his wand into his robe and continued to scrub silently. Draco did not grab his cleaning tools, instead he stared at Harry. He allowed his eyes to wash over Harry's hardened features. He tried to remember the cause for his anger towards him this morning, but failed. This was the boy who saved his life a year ago, he owed him some gratitude, but something was holding him back. He felt as if there was a wall that separated them…that would continue to separate them. They were just too different from each other.

Draco was born in a household where pure blood meant royalty. It meant that you were better than others who didn't share the same lineage. That's what Draco was taught, that's what he always knew. And then there was Harry. It didn't make sense. Harry Potter was loved by all, but Draco's family hated him and Draco was destined to hate him too. "Why did he save me?" Draco thought, "I didn't deserve it."

"What?" Harry's voice pierced through Draco's thoughts. Harry stared at him, his eyes on Draco's. Harry's green eyes poured into Draco's gray ones. Suddenly, a soft gasp escaped Harry's parted lips. Realizing that Malfoy noticed his reaction, he blushed furiously and looked away. Harry returned to his scrubbing.

"Is there something wrong?" Draco asked his tone drenched in annoyance.

"No." Harry answered curtly, "but, you've got to stop staring at me." Draco pulled back affronted.

"Well, we'll be staying here all night if you keep scrubbing like that." Draco retorted. Harry put on an expression of disbelief and replied, "You haven't been scrubbing for the last ten minutes!"

Draco leaned over Harry and grabbed the sponge in his hand. "Hey! Give it to me!" Harry growled.

Draco laughed childishly holding the sponge above his head.

"Let me show you how it's done," Draco replied. He then began to scrub roughly on the cauldron. Harry witnessed Malfoy's progress, he wasn't much better at it. After a few minutes of watching, Harry decided to do something bold. Harry stuck out his hand tentatively and placed it on top of Draco's. Draco looked up at Harry quickly, his mouth agape.

"What the hell?" he cried.

"Relax, I'm only trying to help," Harry replied. Harry pressed his hand harder on Draco's and began to push forward on the sponge. Draco, finally understanding the meaning of the contact, began to cooperate. Together Harry and Draco pushed and pulled the sponge in a circular motion and became more efficient because of it.

Draco was hesitant about the contact at first, but his guard slowly melted away. Harry has never touched him, unless in an attempt to hurt him of course, but today was an exception. As they continued to scrub, the pressure of Harry's hand increased, but Draco didn't pull back, instead he kept his eyes on the cauldron before him and didn't think of anything else but their scrubs. (yeah right)

In about three hours the boys finished every last cauldron. Falling back against the wall, Draco realized that Sinistra hadn't shown up in any of that time. "Harry?" His voice came out breathless and exhausted. "Harry?"

His classmate was sitting right next to him with his body slumped against the wall, but Harry didn't respond. Draco noticed how calm he looked with his eyes closed. Draco followed suit and slid down further into a more comfortable position. He didn't notice when Harry opened his eyes and shifted a little closer.

"Draco?"

Harry's voice once again pulled him out of his thoughts, but he was too tired for a violent reaction. "Yeah?" He hated how his voice sounded so weak.

"I'm sorry."

"Is that so?"

Harry tensed. Had they really not made any progress in the last few hours? Harry had thought that so much time not spent dueling with each other must have surely been a sign of improvement, but apparently not. "Yes. I'm sorry you're such an abominable twit."

Draco reached out and tried to hit Harry, but overestimated the distance and fell over with his arm reaching past Harry's chest. His face was pink again as he straightened up and hesitated before punching Harry lightly on the arm. Returning to his place with a forced dignified air, he tried not to look at Harry's face. He turned around when he heard soft chuckles next to him escalating into hysterical laughter, and couldn't help but start laughing too. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Draco realized that this was the first time he had laughed in months, and noted the irony in that it happened when he was with Potter. He slid all the way down to the freezing stone floor, still laughing with his not-quite-enemy slash not-quite-friend.

It was on this scene that in walked Sinistra, confused at the sudden upswing in mood of her two charges. She didn't explain her long absence, and the boys didn't bother to ask. Still pained from the laughter, the two were dismissed with a point of a finger without even the customary final lecture. Somehow, detention hadn't been so bad after all.

_Chicago: _I wanted name this chapter..._Detention with the Amazing Bouncing Ferret_...(haha...just for laughs)


	3. Prelude to Some Good Ol'Fashion Luvin

"Ron

"Ron!" Hermione yelled, "I thought you finished your homework yesterday." Ron sitting not to far from her mumbled, "I didn't say I finished completely."

The trio was seated at the far corner of the library, their whispers escaping the ears of fellow students. Harry was desperately trying to catch up on the homework from the past week, and couldn't believe how much he had left to do. Each day he would just put off a little work here or there, little did he know that it would soon become an unconquerable mountain of last minute assignments. He sighed in exhaustion. Ron was once again stuck in a similar situation; to his chagrin, was just beginning to learn that his new status as Hermione's boyfriend didn't guarantee him a free pass on nagging. "You knew that it would take more than a few hours, why didn't you start earlier?"

Crossing out an entire paragraph on animal Transfiguration in frustration, Ron let out a controlled sigh. "I didn't okay?" He looked like he was about to throw up, or had some terrible headache. Harry wanted to laugh, but thought better of it and tried to concentrate on his own essay. But every time he moved his hand to dip his quill in ink, he thought of how happy Malfoy looked at the end of their detention.

"Hey guys. Do you er, think that maybe...That maybe really bad people can change?" he ventured cautiously. Ron and Hermione took a break from their arguing to stare incredulously at Harry. "How bad do you mean?" asked Ron neglecting is uncompleted essay once again.

Harry was unsure how to answer. "Well, not evil necessarily. Like...like a bully, I guess" Ron looked confused, but Hermione had the knowing look that Harry had feared. _Don't say it, don't say it… _"Is this about Malfoy?"

_There it goes. _Harry suddenly felt that he shouldn't have brought up the topic, but he supposed he couldn't get out of it now. Hermione would hound him for weeks if he didn't give her a decent answer.

"I don't know, lately I've been thinking that maybe he would change. He's practically an orphan now..."

"Well he hasn't changed much in the past couple of months, has he?" Ron remarked bitingly. "Smug little git." Apparently finding little other interest in the matter, Ron returned to his homework before Hermione could order him back to it.

"Ron, don't be so obtuse. Harry's right, Malfoy must be going through a tough time, just losing his parents. And there's the fact that everything he's ever known has fallen apart, and he's been proven wrong... not to mention what happened to Crabbe. He must feel so lonely right now, with everybody angry at him for his family supporting Voldemort. It'd almost pitiable, actually."

"Hermione, are you serious? It's entirely his fault. He should have known better." Maybe Ron hadn't lost interest after all.

"I know he's more than the product of his parents ideals, but think about it Ron. He did grow up hearing it all the time, and for a time they seemed to be right, didn't they? With Voldemort rising to power again, and those that were not pureblood being attacked. It would seem very attractive to someone looking for an excuse to be right."

"But he should have seen it was wrong. He _did_ know it was wrong, and now he's paying for it. I say we leave the bugger to ride out the rest of his punishment in peace. Of all people, why would _we_ be nice to him anyway?"

Hermione seemed to have no reasonable response to this, and went quietly back to her work. Harry looked up from the table, feeling as if the whole conversation had passed over him like a brief gust of wind. It was better though, that he not be forced into explaining his reasons and the sudden new emotions he felt thinking about Malfoy and his "punishment."

Harry, trying to concentrate on his homework two days later, was falling asleep on top of his parchment. Yesterday had been another sleepless night.

He woke at three a.m. this morning with a surprising realization. He knew who owned those gray cloudy eyes; and although he didn't want to admit it, he knew it ever since detention. What disturbed him the most was not the fact that the eyes from his dreams (eyes that he previously thought to be mesmerizing) belonged to his enemy, it was the fact that something else happened in his dream, something that has never happened before. Harry tried to push the memory into the back of his mind, but his thoughts stubbornly found its way back to the subject of last night's dream.

Harry, resurfacing from his daydream, looked up only to find his two best mates intertwined in each other's embrace. He flushed as he realized they were sharing a passionate kiss, probably convinced that they were alone. When Ron began to run his fingers through Hermione's hair he knew now was the time to stop them. He cleared his throat loudly hoping to end his embarrassment. The two reluctantly pulled apart, Ron with a self-satisfied grin and Hermione in a blank-faced daze. "Oh sorry, Harry," Hermione breathed.

"No big deal," Harry muttered, "I understand your dating."

"But we still shouldn't have, right Ron?" Hermione jabbed Ron roughly in the rib. He grunted loudly and quickly replied, "Yes, mam."

Ginny made her way towards Harry in the common room. Harry noticed her coming towards him. Ginny's feelings toward Harry weren't exactly secret and Harry even remembered having adoring feelings for her as well. But ever since the war, Harry's feelings languished and he can now only see her as a friend. Yet she, unfortunately for Harry, continued to persist. Ginny was now in front of her target a glorious smile playing on her lips. If it were for anyone else besides Harry, she would have bent to anyone to her will. But, her smile was for Harry and he just looked upon her with blatant indifference.

"Hi Harry," she greeted.

"Hey Ginny."

"So, have you heard anything about the Ravenclaw house party tonight?"

"No…can't say that I have."

"Well, I heard that it was gonna be one heck of a party, they're even inviting people from other houses."

"Really? That's kinda surprising."

"Well, I think it's great that the school is becoming more united. There will be less tension between houses."

"I guess your right…"

"Listen Harry, I didn't really come over here just to talk about the school community, or whatever," Ginny took a deep breath. Harry waited patiently for her to continue, "I came to ask if you would be my date, for the party tonight?"

"Well…"

"It doesn't have to be anything serious. Just as friends?"

"You know what? I would like that." Harry replied. At his words Ginny's face light up. "A party is exactly what I need now. "

"Great. Meet me here at seven tonight," Ginny said, and with that she gracefully turned on her heel and left the common room. Harry couldn't help but ask if he made the right decision, but seeing Ron and Hermione tangle tongues this made Harry realize just what he was missing in life. So what if he doesn't feel particularly strong about Ginny Weasely, it shouldn't stop him from getting some good old fashioned lovin'. Harry smiled at himself, if he played his cards right he might just get lucky tonight. Of course he could never tell his friend Ron anything about his plans.


	4. A Secret Is Revealed

It was six forty-five. Harry sat on one of the chairs that adorned the common room waiting for his date. Harry had spent a total of thirty minutes looking for something decent to wear and luckily came across a black button down shirt and a pair of slightly worn-out jeans. His mind wouldn't shut up about the fact that he was going on a date with his ex-girlfriend. He found himself musing over how Ron and Hermione would react. Hermione would definitely nag about how wrong using Ginny was and how his feelings would get in the way of Ron and his friendship. Ron, on-the-other-hand, would hate the thought of "Ginny" and "dating" in the same sentence. That was the exact reason why he had to keep a low profile tonight.

"Harry!" a voice brought him back from his thoughts. It was Ginny. She had on a flattering purple mini and a modest matching top. She looked stunning and Harry couldn't help but notice her shapely legs. Ginny took Harry's hand, and began to lead him toward the Ravenclaw common room.

When they got to the common room, a boy in the same year as Harry stood by the portrait. He was obviously acting as the lookout/bouncer for the party. His job was to simply distract passing teachers and to make sure no one without an invitation got in.

"Hi Greg." Ginny handed him her invitation. He glanced at it and then turned to the portrait of a knight and spoke two words, "Sugar apples." The portrait swung open to let them in.

Ginny pulled Harry in behind her. Music boomed from an unknown source in the Ravenclaw common room. People from all four houses crammed themselves into the small room, either dancing or chatting casually. Neon lights floated in mid-air and reflected handsomely on confetti that magically rained from the ceiling. If someone were to enter the room they could have easily mistaken it for a night club.

"Do you want to dance?" Ginny shouted over the loud bass.

"Sure."

On the dance floor, the latest music blared from invisible speakers. Ginny took Harry by the waist and swayed him rhythmically. Harry went with the flow and took her by the waist as well. They continued to rock and sway to the music in a very sensual manner.

The pace of the music quickened each song more upbeat than the last. Ginny's movements became erratic, her body fueled by adrenaline. Harry tried to keep up with his partner but fell miserably behind. "Relax, Harry," Ginny panted, "just let go." Harry was no dancer, so he settled for a simple two step. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he stood out awkwardly next to Ginny, who was no novice when it came to dancing. "I don't think I'm doing this right, Ginny," Harry mumbled. She laughed.

"Why don't you let me lead?" Ginny suggested with her silkiest voice. In a manner of seconds the space between her and her partner became nonexistent. Harry tensed at first but then the music took over him and he became lost in its tempo.

* * *

"This place is stacked with butterbeer. They got barrels and barrels of the good stuff, mate." Dean Thomas tapped his mug against Ron's splashing his drink onto the sofa they were seated on. Barely noticing the mess, Dean chugged down what was left of his drink. It had been only about an hour ago when Ron found out about the party. He was surprised he hadn't heard about it before but as soon as he found out, he grabbed Hermione and headed out to have some fun. He didn't manage to find Harry, though. This slightly aggravated Ron, but he figured he'd catch up with him later.

"I'm telling you," Ron started, "ditching the books to come here was totally worth it. Can you believe how many people are here?" Dean wasn't paying much attention. Instead he was staring out at the crowd. "What are you lookin' at mate?"

"Whoa. Guess who else is here. Looks like your sister and Harry are getting seriously acquainted." Ron looked in the direction Dean was staring. His shock quickly turned to anger. He looked at the scene before him; his sister's arms where wrapped around his best friend's body, while Harry's hands rested dangerously on Ginny's lower back. Ron wondered if Harry would ever make up his mind. One minute he was dating his sister, the next he broke up with her, now he practically her up (His imagination exaggerates what was really going on). It upset him even more that Harry kept this a secret from him. He felt betrayed and embarrassed. He didn't want people to think of his sister as a "loose" girl, nor did he want Harry sneaking behind his back. Ron slammed his mug against the coffee table and abruptly jumped up from where he sat. He growled something about having to go and stalked off, leaving Dean alone and confused.

By the time Ron made it through the crowd and onto the dance floor, Harry and Ginny were out of sight.


	5. High Action

"Come with me," she whispered into Harry's ear. His pulse sped up in response. "This is it," Harry thought to himself. Ginny grabbed him by the wrist and roughly pulled him away from the crowd and into an abandoned hallway. Once completely away from prying eyes, she dropped his wrist and turned to face him. Her large blue eyes met his green ones and they stared at each other for what seemed like hours. They each waited for the other to make the first move. Harry couldn't take it any longer. He swallowed hard and managed to say, "Ginny-" before he was cut off mid-sentence.

Ginny jumped on him. She kicked all manners to the curb and let her animal-like instincts take over. She pressed her lips forcefully to Harry's. He didn't know what to do with lips at first. Kissing felt so weird to him all of a sudden; he just kept imagining Ron's face. It really didn't get him in a romantic mood. He figured he'd use his tongue a little and maybe then he'd actually feel something. Ginny moaned in reply to his bold action. She then began to trace her fingers up and down his back, and Harry tensed at the contact. All he could think about was Ron kicking his butt for making out with his sister.

"Harry, you don't have to worry," Ginny said. And as if reading Harry's mind she added, "no one will find out." Finding comfort in her words, he met her lips again. Ginny was beside herself as she felt a warm sensation course up her body. Harry continued to feel nothing. He mechanically began to massage her back with his hands, the whole time wondering why he wasn't reacting. "Why isn't this working?" He asked himself. Frustrated, Harry abruptly pulled away.

"What's the matter?" Ginny asked.

Harry didn't answer. Quite honestly, he didn't know why he pulled away. "I mean I'm a guy, I should like this kind of stuff, right?" He ran his fingers through his hair as he fought with himself internally. Ginny didn't know what was going on and grew angry at Harry for pushing her away. She impulsively placed her hands on the sides of Harry's head.

"Look at me, Harry," she demanded. Harry raised his eyes to hers. "Do you like me?"

"Err…of course I do." He answered.

"Then why can't you kiss me?" She asked. Harry noticed the sad tone in her voice and felt a pang of guilt. He thought about her question before answering.

After a short pause, he replied, "I can't kiss you, because I don't have those kinds of feelings for you anymore."

Ginny reeled back at the impact of his words. For a split second, her eyes glazed over, as if tears threatened to fall. But her sadness was instantly covered up with a façade of apathy. She felt like she just got slapped in the face. She was humiliated and furious. She dropped her hands to her sides. "I'm sorry, Ginny." Harry added after the continued silence. Ginny only grew angrier and curled her hands into fist.

"Are you attracted to me at all?" She asked quietly. Harry knew the answer. He just couldn't understand why he felt this way. "Ginny is pretty and has nice hair," Harry thought to himself, "she also has nice eyes…"

Harry froze. "Nice eyes…" He couldn't believe himself. How could he possibly think of Malfoy at a time like this? Those striking gray eyes were imprinted in his mind and he couldn't get them out. "Harry-" Ginny breathed as she wove her arms around her crush. He barely noticed; he was too caught up in his own thoughts. The two held each other in the dark hallway completely unaware of the tall red head that just walked in.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?!" Ron yelled vehemently. Harry and Ginny jumped in surprise.

"Ron!" Ginny hissed through clenched teeth. Harry couldn't believe his luck. How did Ron find out about him and his sister?

"What's going on?" Hermione ran to Ron's side. Finally acknowledging the tension that hung dangerously in the air, she redirected her gaze toward Ginny and Harry. She quickly caught on to what was happening. "I-I think we should go…" suggested Hermione as she slipped her arm through Ron's. He stubbornly shrugged her arm away and ignored her.

"Harry," he yelled, taking threatening steps toward his now former friend, "you step away from Ginny, now."

Harry blinked in realization. Ron wasn't just angry, he was livid and it showed in the acrimony of his words. Harry moved back, his hands subconsciously rose as if under arrest. "Ron, please let me explain."

"Explain?" Ron roared in disbelief, "I saw everything. There's nothing to explain."

Ginny could not stay silent for another minute. She protectively stepped in front of Harry and glared dangerously at her brother. "Please tell me this is déjà vu because I swore we already had this conversation, Ronald." Ron was fuming, but he remained silent. Ginny took this opportunity to continue. "Who I go out with and what I do is none of your business."

"It is my business when the person you're dating is my friend" Ron cut in bitingly. Harry was relieved when he used the word "friend", but Ron quickly added, "Well, was my friend."

"What does that have to do with it?"

Ron tore his gaze away from Ginny and directed it toward Harry, "Friends don't fool around with their friend's sisters. I trusted you, Harry. I thought you weren't like other guys." Regret and guilt plagued Harry's conscience; regret, guilt, and numbness was all he felt. "What have I done?" He questioned mentally. His insides were filled with the horrible feeling you get when you let others as well as yourself down

"You filthy, hypocrite!" Ginny yelled accusingly, "how dare you yell at Harry for 'fooling around' when that's exactly what you did with Lavender Brown!"

"-But she isn't Harry's sister"

"Oh." Ginny stated in mock understanding, "that's the difference." She then closed the space between her and her brother, standing now only an inch from his face. "You. Don't. Own. Me.; which means I have the right to do what I want with anybody I choose."

At that point Hermione was standing out of reach of the testy teens. She had a hand placed over her mouth as if trying to muffle a defiant gasp. She locked eyes with Harry for a spilt second. And in that instant she saw a contrite look in his eyes that expressed his pain and remorse. Things have escalated too far out of hand.

"Stop it!" she yelled unexpectedly. Heads turned, surprised by the girl's sudden outburst.

"Hermione..."

"Just stop it. There is no reason for you two to be fighting. You're brother and sister for crying out loud. Besides we are at a party, we are supposed to be having fun, not jumping down each other's throat!"

"Hermione… you're…right," Ron said guilty. He turned to Harry, but he was gone."Harry?"


	6. A Lack of Light

Harry closed the latch of the huge wooden door, sealing off the Room of Requirement from anyone who might stumble in on them. "You okay, Ginny?"

She sniffled a little and sat on the double bed that occupied the middle of the room. Had she wished for that as they walked back and forth in front of the door? "Yeah, I guess." In the dim light afforded by a small lamp on a low simple table off to the side, Harry could make out the outline of Ginny's hand wiping at eyes. Moving closer, he noticed how puffy her eyes had already become.

"Shh, don't cry," he cooed, reaching down to wipe the tears himself. He sat down on the bed next to her, sinking into the soft covers. This was a nice bed.

The redhead gave a cry that sounded more like a mixture of a whine and grunt. "I don't understand why he's always doing this to me. What does he possibly get out of tampering with my life?" She sniffed again and leaned on Harry's shoulder.

Harry's shoulder tensed up at the unexpected movement, but he let her stay there. "Maybe it's because he cares about you," he offered.

"But we went out before. I thought it was okay. He got over it then, didn't he? What's the difference?"

"He doesn't want to see you hurt again. He must have sensed it the first time we broke up."

"But was I that bad? I didn't think I looked so terribly bad that he'd cut off your friendship based on that."

In the dark, Harry felt his eye twitch. Not that bad? Harry remembered the heartbreak of his decision to separate himself from Ginny for her sake. He thought it was the same for her, the death of something sacred. "Oh. I didn't know you felt that way."

"Well, not exactly. It's hard to explain." She lifted her head and looked directly into his eyes. "It wasn't exactly easy."

He shifted around on the bed to avoid her gaze. "It wasn't easy for me either."

Ginny leaned closer again and Harry felt her chest rise up with a deep inhalation. "Really?" There was a certain desperate quality in that word that made Harry draw back yet again. "I guess. I mean, I didn't feel like there was much choice."

This time Ginny kept the distance the boy put between them, but he could still sense her hitched breathing. "But what about after? We were safe then. We could have gotten back together."

Harry didn't like the direction this was going. "Let's not get caught up in the past, huh?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" Her hands twisted around the loose sheets, coiling them into a rope on her lap.

"Just… Let's enjoy this moment, oaky?"

She stared him straight in the face. "But I want to know, Harry. Did you ever intend to get back together or was it just a convenient excuse?"

Heat flushed to Harry's face. He hadn't expected a confrontation tonight. "Ginny, drop it, please. You wouldn't understand."

Ginny stood up in a whirl of anger and bedding. "And that's just the root of the problem, isn't it? No one can understand the great Harry Potter, the incomparable god of the wizarding world. The difficult problems of a genius that can't be approached by anyone. How many times have we saved your ass? And now I don't understand. You know what? Just… Whatever." Turning on her heels, Ginny stomped out of the room, leaving Harry alone in the almost-barren room, absorbed by the darkness.

* * *

Draco ran his index finger along the smoothed edge of the bottle, wondering how long he had been sitting here. The contents swished pleasantly when he picked it up, calling him to forget his thoughts again. He sighed. These half-hearted attempts would never lead anywhere. Just as there was no way to reverse the past seventeen years. Outside, the twilight was joining the kingdoms of night and day, expelling the sunlight from the sky. The stars were beginning to appear, like arrivals to a party, while the trees darkened to become a mass of shadow. Inside by the fire, Draco felt wrapped in a cocoon, tucked away in the vastness of the universe.

So ended another day.

The nine chimes of the clock signaled the hour, startling the boy out of his haziness. The bottle, long since empty, had been dropped to the carpet, and Draco had throw about some pillows in a semi-conscious attempt to be comfortable. Groaning at his mounting headache, Draco stood and tidied up, surprised that the room was still empty. He hoped no one had passed through here. When he sat down, he found himself still restless. A walk might do him some good.

* * *

Harry couldn't take the pressure anymore. Everything seemed to be a chorus of anger: his 'best friend' yelling at him, Ginny yelling back, and Hermione surprisingly yelling too. All the anger it was suffocating. He had to get out. So he did.

Harry roamed the halls of Hogwarts, not knowing where exactly it was that he was heading. He didn't want to go back to Gryffindor common room; that was last place he wanted to go. Because if they knew he was gone, the first place they would look would be the common room.

So he drifted toward Slytherin, his legs slowly but surely taking him there. When he looked up, he was staring at the portrait that was the doorway to the Slytherin common room. Harry couldn't get in without the password, so he stood there, for a reason only known to him.

Suddenly the door swung open, Harry was almost knocked down trying to get away and out of sight. He hid behind a statue of a golden snake which was a few feet away from the portrait and of the boy who came out. His eyes lit up when he saw the boy. He crouched down even further, trying to become part of the shadows, but instead kicked over a book lying by the ground. "Shit," he muttered under his breath.

The footsteps stopped. "I know you're there." Harry sucked in his breath, attempting stillness. "You could spare yourself the agonizing tension and just come out." He stubbornly refused to move.

Malfoy walked into his narrow line of vision. "Potter," he scoffed. "I should have known. Who else could be so stupid and stubborn at the same time?" Harry reddened, but did not get up. "Well? Are you just going to sit there?"

"Do you ever feel guilty?"

"About what?"

Harry could read on his face that Malfoy knew he was stalling, trying to cover up his embarrassment, but was going along with it. Perhaps he had nothing better to do with his time. "You seem lonely." His green eyes looked up helplessly (how the boy above him would probably interpret it) at the other wizard.

Malfoy drew back at this insinuation. "And you seem desperate to distract me. Up to something? It wouldn't surprise me if your Gryffindor cohorts were around. Just say what you're doing here so we can get it over with."

"I'm not doing anything in particular," Harry said, almost as a whisper.

Malfoy suddenly looked as uncomfortable as Harry felt. A sudden wave of sadness took Harry as he watched Malfoy move into the pool of light shed by a hanging lantern. "Well then. If you would mind not stalking me, I'm going to leave now."

"Bye." Harry raised his hand and gave a little wave. The blond shot him one last disgusted look before he left. Once again, Harry was left alone. "How do I keep doing this?"


	7. Next Day Blues

The early morning sun crept through the thick crimson curtains shedding light on Harry's immobile body. In a very sleepy manner, Harry turned away from the intruding light and attempted to fall back asleep. What did he have to wake up to anyway? He practically lost all his friends and on top of that he had to bear Quidditch practice with both Ginny and Ron later on that night! Harry sighed and rolled onto his other side. "What time is it anyway?" Harry asked aloud.

"Talking to yourself now are you?" Ron sneered as he walked past Harry's four-poster. He had his towel wrapped carefully around his slim waist, obviously on his way to take a quick shower. Harry rolled his eyes as he called out, "I get it! You hate me. But you still have to come to practice tonight." Ron threw him a dirty look before turning away. Harry could have sworn he heard Ron mumble "git" as he walked out of the dormitory.

Maybe with a bit more effort, Harry thought to himself, I could fall back asleep and never wake up.

Another typical day at Hogwarts, another night of dreams. Which was part of the reason why Harry's thoughts centered around Draco Malfoy. "Who is he to invade my sleep?" Harry cursed internally.

Cloudy eyes combined with dancing flames that eventually grew to consume himself. He'd suddenly find himself alone in a meadow, verdant hills, refulgent in the light of the sunset. He'd look to his side and see Malfoy standing beside him, where a second ago, no one stood. He'd look down and see his hand within the grasp of Malfoy's warm one, and he'd look up to see a sky sprinkled with billions of stars.

These dreams were lasting longer and longer and Harry couldn't understand why.

_______________________________________________________________________

"Alright guys, today we're going to go over some new plays I drew up."

Harry handed out a piece of worn parchment to each team member. Curiosity, obvious on the faces of everyone that stared down at the parchment before them.

"What exactly is this?" asked Ginny as she indifferently brushed a stray hair behind her ear. Harry directed his some-what irritated gaze to the red head. He let out a sigh and began to go over the details of the new Quidditch play.

"Basically it's a new approach to defense that not only protects the Keeper, but leaves the Chasers, from the other team of course, unprotected," Harry concluded with a blatant self-satisfaction. A couple of team members applauded enthusiastically or clapped Harry roughly on the back. With the first game of the season fast approaching, the Gryffindor team clung to the hope of Harry delivering them yet another House Cup.

After a few minutes of excited chatter, Harry blew his whistle and had the team perform several drills before tackling the new play.

"Ron, watch out!" Harry yelled. He barely saw the quaffle as it flew through the air towards Ron's unguarded abdomen. It was moving at an impossible speed, like a bullet aimed for a kill.

Ron tried to respond as quickly as he could, but it was inevitable and before he could move out of the way, he was falling. Harry quickly recited a spell to cushion the fall.

In the meantime, Ginny sat frozen on her broomstick, a slightly troubled look on her face. The team surrounded Ron trying to bring him back into consciousness and as soon as he came around, Ginny let out a soft chuckle.


End file.
